ms parv

Headcanons on being dommed by some of the marvel women.

Characters: Wanda Maximoff, Carol Danvers, Natasha Romanoff, Thena, Valkyrie, Hela Odinsdottir

x gender neutral reader

warnings: smut, dom/sub dynamic

@sweetestberryofthebunch the way I added Hela just for you 😳🏃🏃 (and me if I'm being honestly because 🥵🥵)

Cate Blanchett characters masterlist Pt1 Warnings: Racism, smut, voyeurism, floof Length: Long af A/N: I am not taking the time to write a historically accurate fic. I’m winging it. So don’t come at me with the inaccuracies. I know they’re there. *I never proofread. Ignore mistakes* ———— Mid morning Next day/ Charlotte’s Boat “Will we be safe?” Isabella asks as she is helped by a Footman into Charlotte’s boat Charlotte, who is already seated in the boat with her Ladies at her feet, answers “Of course. Now come on, you’ll adore the ride through the Canals. The Townsfolk are always happy to see us” Exhaling, Isabella makes her way over to sit next to Charlotte. You, Catalina, and Marina follow, taking a seat by the feet of Isabella. Once everyone was seated and comfortable, the Oarsmen began rowing away from the Castle shores. About 30 minutes later, Catalina, Marina, Margaret, Beatrice, and Alice crammed to be shaded beneath the veils of the boat. The Sun becoming too much for their fair complexions to handle. You and Oshun sit slightly outside of the veils, the Sun not bothering either of you two. “The Sun does not bother you my dear?” Charlotte asks “No your Majesty” You answer Curious, Charlotte asks “How is the Sun in Mexico?” You smile reminiscing “So hot it warms the Earth, keeping her warm even when the Stars are out” “Is that why you’re that shade of brown? Because of the Sun?” Margaret, Charlotte’s second youngest Lady, asks. All eyes turn to Margaret the moment she asked. Margaret looks down knowing she spoke out of place “Apologies your Majesty” Margaret speaks to Charlotte “I’ll grant your apology, this one time-” Charlotte now addresses you “-Answer. Is that why you are the color of Earth?” You softly shrug your shoulders “I don’t know. I suppose so.” “You suppose so” Charlotte repeats without malice or cruelty, she simply repeated the words. Charlotte’s eyes look towards the Horizon, she can see the sights of the Town “Ah, we are arriving” Conversation ceases, eyes look over to the Town coming slowly into view. Entering the Canals of the Town, many townsfolk waved and smiled in the direction of the Queens. Isabella, and Charlotte waved back with smiles on their faces. Some townsfolk started to throw flowers, or flower petals into the boat. Picking up some of the flowers that fell beside you, you pick out the ones that remained beautifully intact. Taking them, you quietly place them on Isabella’s lap. Though she will never admit it, she appreciates the gesture. Her hand picking one Rose up to smell it. Charlotte, she watches you with gratitude and hopes that maybe you’ll bestow some flowers on her lap. Continuing down the Canal, more flowers and petals are thrown into the boat. One beautiful, perfectly in bloom, still on it’s Stem, pink Peony lands on your lap. Picking it up gently, you smile at just how perfect it is. Turning to Charlotte you ask “If her Majesty allows it, may I place this flower in your hair?” Charlotte is tickled by the gesture. Isabella purses her lips, jealous and upset you dare to be bold with Charlotte. Isabella remains quiet, waiting to see how Charlotte will react, so that she may give a proper reaction as well. Charlotte answers you “Of course. Come and place the flower” Getting on your knees, you walk over to Charlotte with the flower held gently in your hands. Being a few inches away from her, you gently tuck the flower stem into the braid by her ear, letting the flower itself rest against the side of her head. Moving away from Charlotte, you go back to where you were sitting. “How does it look?” Charlotte asks ‘Beautiful’ and 'Perfect’ are the answers she receives from you and the others. Smiling, Charlotte gently ghosts her palm over the petals. Through her peripheral, Isabella glares at you. If you saw her, you ignored it. —– Isabella’s quarters

*not my gif Cate Blanchett characters masterlist

Length: Long 

Warnings: Prejudice demeaning talk, forced nudity. 

A/N: I’m going to just wing how the English monarchy was during the 1700’s. This series won’t be historically accurate either because I’m not going to take my time to research accuracy. Royal names will be made up. So I suppose this will sort of be an AU?. While I like to make my fics as vague for Reader to picture whoever they want. This fic will have reader as someone from Mexico, around the ages of 24-34, and will be made to have very obvious indigenous features to what Native Mexicans look like. You can still imagine reader however you want, but be warned there will be distinct characteristics. Since this set in the old days, there will be mentions of classism, sexism, racism, sexual assault, homophobia, and cheating. I will try not to be very graphic with the negatives, but they will be there. I will warn beforehand.

Also, y’all, this fic literally came to me at 3 am. I’m writing out the first part to just get it out of the way. I’ll add to the fic as it comes to me.  *I never proofread. Ignore mistakes.* ——– “You are not to speak to the King or Queen without being spoken to first. Do as I say, and keep that savage tongue of yours in place. The English do not hesitate to behead you for being insubordinate” Clenching your jaw tightly, you nod in agreement towards Queen Isabella. For the last 2 years, you have been under the servitude of the Queen of Spain as a peace offering between the Spaniards, and your Tribe. Back in Mexico, you were born a Princess, and that made you a valuable token to be traded. King Alfonso promised your father peace if he gave you to him for his wife. Your father with much reluctance, agreed. Arriving in Spain, you were immediately sent to the Queen who took an immediate disdain towards you. She was told savages were unkempt, unclean, hideous creatures who acted like wild animals. Yet here you were standing before her; well kempt, beautiful, and respectful. Isabella did her best to make sure you would learn to forget you were a princess, and instead now her servant. She daunted you with demands, constantly berated you, and would often beat you for not doing what she wanted how she wanted. You bit your tongue through it all, holding your family and tribe’s honor and peace in your hands. The first year was a struggle for you, you were terribly homesick, and very tired of Isabella and her cruelty. The second year has been easier, but you still miss home, and still hate Isabella. Now, you’re on your way to England for King Alfonso and Queen Isabella to meet King Henry and Queen Charlotte for a peace treaty amongst both Countries. From what you’ve overheard during duties, King Henry is quite a benevolent man who is wildly in love with Charlotte, and their son Peter. Charlotte is said to be just as benevolent, but has been rumored to have a penchant for younger maidens, especially now that King Henry focuses most of his attention on their son Peter. Keeping your mouth shut, you only listen, eager to know how these Royals live. — The Carriage you were riding in, comes to a halt. From within, you can hear the Serjeant-at-Arms introduce King Alfonso to the English. The door to your Carriage opens up, a footman extends his hand in for Isabella to take. The Serjeant-at-Arms announces Isabella’s name and title. As she exits, you can see people curtsying and bowing. You come out after, keeping your eyes down as you walk a step behind Isabella who joined Alfonso. King Henry, a rather handsome man with Peach colored skin, a Roman nose, and striking green eyes approaches Alfonso and Isabella. His smile is wide and warm. His body is long, and lean except for a pudge at his lower abdomen. His hair is blonde with streaks of grey and red. Facial hair is more on the reddish side than blonde. He has big hands that pat Alfonso’s back with a heavy hollow thud. “So good to see you Alfonso. How was the ride?” “Quite pleasant. Nothing like the English Country air to cleanse my Spanish lungs” Alfonso and Henry share a hearty laugh. Queen Charlotte approaches Isabella. Charlotte is striking and intimidating with her gait, she seems to float instead of walking. Unlike Henry, Charlotte is as white as snow, her hair is Strawberry blonde and long. Charlotte has high cheekbones, a defined jawline, and a full naturally pink pout. “Isabella, welcome” Charlotte greets Unlike Isabella’s high pitched whiny voice, Charlotte has a deeper, smooth strong voice. Isabella takes Charlotte into an embrace. Although you have kept your gaze down for the most part, you dared peek through your lashes to take a glance of Charlotte. To your surprise, her eyes were on yours. Intense blue eyes locked with your Earthy browns. In that moment you felt your heart stop, and you’re sure hers did as well. You have seen beautiful snow white women with blue eyes, but there is something striking about her and her eyes. To Charlotte, you’re the first person she has seen look different from the Spaniards, and English. She is curious over you, and especially your dominant earth tones. Looking back down to your feet, you stay waiting for instructions from Isabella. Crunching gravel coming from Alfonso and Henry walking away are heard. You hear footsteps approach you. Ornate, and beautiful fabric shoes come into your view. Isabella presents you “Charlotte, this is my lady in waiting Y/n. Y/n greet the Queen” “Your majesty” You say as you do a little curtsy, eyes still to the ground “Look at me” Charlotte commands Looking up, you meet those Blue’s again. “Where are you from?” Charlotte asks You look at Isabella who nods for you to answer. You turn to Charlotte “Mexico” Charlotte’s eyes light up with interest “Ah, a savage” You clench your jaw at the word used to degrade you and your people. You bite your tongue so hard you made it bleed, the taste of iron filling your mouth. Charlotte notices how upset the word makes you. “I’ve heard of you and your people. Always told you were wild animals too gruesome to look at. I see it’s not all true, you’re quite intriguing, and well behaved-” Charlotte turns to Isabella “-I take it you civilized her?. You did a spectacular job. Are they all the same color of Earth as she is?” Isabella looks at you then back to Charlotte “I suppose so. Alfonso would not allow me to go to Mexico-” Isabella turns to you “-Are you all the same color of Earth?” You answer “Yes your majesty, we are” Charlotte smiles, Isabella looks pleased with your civility. Charlotte nods for Isabella and the rest to follow. Eyeing Charlotte’s ladies in waiting, they all peek at you with curiosity.

—- Castle/ Corridors Following Charlotte and Isabella around the Castle, you had little time to rest. While Charlotte and Isabella enjoyed private company. You were shown where you’d be sleeping, what is expected of you to do for Isabella while you’re here, and how to behave around Charlotte and Henry. Most of the people at the Castle were brief with you, they wanted little to do with you because of where you’re from. The only person who was nice enough to be helpful was a Nigerian maid named Oshun. She’s a petite young woman with vibrant onyx eyes, skin silky smooth, and a warm demeanor that made her feel like home. 

—- After you were given the basics, you were taken to the great hall where dinner was being held. There you sat with the other ladies in waiting. From your seat, you kept catching Charlotte looking at you with interest. She’d wink at you everytime you’d make eye contact. You’d look away immediately, hoping your skin would not fluster. If anyone else noticed what was happening, they willfully ignored it. — At night’s end, after you left Isabella in her quarters to sleep, you retreated to find the bath for yourself. Creeping quietly around corridors, you found yourself getting hopelessly lost in your quest. You start to worry someone will catch you. You want to return to your quarters, but you fear Isabella becoming upset if she finds out you did not bathe, and instead wandered around the Castle. Retracing your steps, you hope to find a familiar place to lead you back to your quarters. “Lost are you?” You hear a voice behind you Squeaking, you turn around to see Charlotte in her night clothes. You immediately curtsy and look down. “Apologies your highness.” Charlotte chuckles. She comes over to you “Look at me” You look up at Charlotte. Unlike your first introduction, Charlotte eyes are softer and her demeanor friendlier. “What were you hoping to find?” Charlotte asks “The bath. Queen Isabella likes for me to be clean at all times” Charlotte smiles “Follow me, I’ll show you” “Thank you” You say, doing another curtsy “Save your formalities when they are needed. When it’s just me, you have no need to do that. Come” Charlotte walks off, you remain a few steps behind. Going through corridors, down some steps, and through more corridors, Charlotte leads you to a bath.

Ship: Hela x Reader (no pronouns)

Backstory: When Hela steps foot in Asgard she chooses you, a scroll keeper and skald, to be her executioner.

(fic name is probably gonna change) (warning for violence, blood, dark! Hela) (Part 1/?)

You watched as the goddess slew soldier after soldier, man after man. There was not one drop of sweat on her face. Arrows and swords clanged at her feet, her body immune to their metallic bonds. Asgardian soldiers staggered on the floor. Their energy was long gone, mere minutes ago they showered her with spears. In the center of the battle stood Hela, a swift-cutting blade of black and green. carcasses of ships set aflame as she danced intricately, slashing her hands, a trail of blood following her fingers. A soldier yelled and sprinted towards her, burying his spear deep into her back. She turned and buried her sharp nails into his eyes. Blood ran from his face and wet Hela’s fingers. His body hadn’t yet hit the ground when another battle cry came from right behind her. She conjured one of her black daggers. With a swift turn, she placed her left hand on the handle and pushed the blade through his armor and into his chest. The last few soldiers -barely alive- tried to run off into the mist. None of them made it far before they were impaled with black spears.

The floor was littered with dead bodies. The sudden silence rang in your ears. Hela gripped the spear from her back and pulled it out. Not a single drop of blood followed from her wound, the blade was clean. “I’ve missed this,” she sighed deeply, closing her eyes. Red trickled between her fingers, splattered on her armor here and there.

She walked toward the soldier closest to her and ripped a piece of his cape. The blood wiped off easily. “Such a pity,” she said, looking around the field. “Good soldiers dying for nothing.”

The scrolls in your library had few mentions of Hela, but if there was one thing you were certain of was that wherever her name was, fear followed. Countless tales of the fearsome, bloodthirsty, caged goddess of death, all came to you in a frenzy. You did not plan to die by her hands.

So you didn’t say a word. 

Hela turned and eyed you up and down. Although you had stayed behind, farther from the battlefield, blood still stained your robes. Your axe was at your feet, deep in a man’s chest. Hela walked towards you, examining your face through half-lidded eyes. 

“You’re a shame for a soldier,” her expression stoic, “such weak flesh”. 

Anyone with a name that starts with a “Z”, ends with an “i”, and isn’t some kind of Italian pasta, IS SERIOUS

Paring: Cate Blanchett x fem reader

Warnings: professor student relationship, slight smut, masterbation, dom/sub undertone, dirty talk

Read Chapter 2 here

(Sorry for the long wait I have been caught up with my personal and academic life lately🥺I know I’ve been a complete ass making people wait for so long. I’m so sorry)

*not my edits*

The day has been long.

There’s a clock in your bedroom. An old fashioned one, and you could hear the second hand ticking in your room: time passes in the unit of a second at a time, and you are so aware of every second that has passed.

It is painful, really. You try to focus on the reading for your psychology class, but there’s an unsettling feeling in your chest, as if something is suspended in the air, waiting to fall.

To fall. Like gravity, so natural and irresistible. That is how you feel right now as you sigh and look at your planner for the third time in the past hour, a scheduled appointment for office hours with a professor, the professor…...highlighted in yellow, like the color of the sunlight that is now resting outside of your window.

And so you are thinking about her again. The other day when she was explaining the literary devices that Ovid used to show the depth of love. Love, when the word falls out of her mouth you can’t help but tremble. You take in a deep breath as you wander around the meeting link on the canvas site. There’s still 10 minutes before the scheduled time. Even though she has always said in the lecture that anyone’s welcomed to join the meeting room, you decide to wait. The amount of hesitation and a mix of other feelings pumping in your heart scares you. You hate to use the word love lightly, but what other word could you use to describe that feeling that’s dancing in your chest right now? that hopeless attraction, that constant longing you have for her? When you’ve barely even talked to her, you’ve fallen for her. You feel utterly alone, slightly ashamed, and immensely terrified.

You curse under your breath as your eyes refocus on the screen, dragging yourself back from your thoughts, you’re almost late. And so you click on the link, your body tense and your teeth biting your lower lips nervously as you enter the waiting room.

“Well Hello, so how are you doing today?”

She greets you with a smile, her voice reaffirms her presence and makes your heart miss a beat. She’s wearing a white shirt, the first three buttons casually opened, elongating her elegant neck, exposing her delicate collar bones...and the a peek of her cleavage that makes your cheeks burn. Yet you can’t take your eyes off, a silver necklace draping from her neck down to inside her shirt...almost luring you.

“Can you hear me alright?”

She spoke again, and you’re embarrassed by your lost focus...on her. It still feels slightly unreal that she’s addressing you—you’ve gotten used to not answering her questions, as you know someone else always will.

“I’m sorry...yes I can hear you. I’m doing good.” You open your mouth to realize that your voice is a little raspy from not talking all day.

She is looking slightly tired but genuine and kind as usual, staring into the camera with a satisfied smile as she nods to your answer. You can hear her clicking as you both fell silent. You try to focus on the presence of her so as to stop your thoughts from running into wild places, but that seems to do the opposite job.

“So I see you’ve got a 90.5 on your last essay, which isn’t bad at all.” She said with a keen smile as she praises you, which soon turned into a look of curiosity as she raises her eyebrows, “with such a grade you’re not required to come see me, but you still choose to. I wonder if you have any specific questions for me?”

“Oh…” no, you don’t really have any, but you look down on your notes for things you’ve prepared for this meeting, “I just wonder if you have any suggestions for my writing, you know, where can I improve, because I’d like to get a better grade for that upcoming essay.”

“Hmmm..understood.” She nods again, and you can see her eyes quickly scanning through your essay as she speaks.

And her left hand, that was supporting her chin, is now resting on her left cheek. And—an observation that scorched your cheeks—her fingers are now unconsciously touching her own lips...in a most casual, most usual but also insanely sensual way.

“Will you give me a minute? I’d like to inspect your words more closely so I can give you better suggestions.” She lifted her eyes to look at the camera with a subtle grin.

“Oh sure. I’m in no rush.”

Her fingers returned to her lips after she’s done talking. long, beautiful fingers that you have dreamed and thought about. You’ve imagined them on your face, on your hand, on your body...in your body...without realizing how bold a move you’re making, you feel your own touch on your thighs, moving closer and closer to the center before you find yourself messaging your desire, already aroused, over the thin fabric of your panties.

You gasp at the pleasure, a silent one, and then a louder one. You look into the screen to see her now flipping through a book on her desk, (Metamorphosis, you suppose, as that’s what your essay was about), feeling more daring and slipped a sweaty hand into your pantie.

You’re wetter than you expected, providing an easy entrance for your own finger. Your breath gets heavier and heavier with your slow thrusts, trying to maintain your posture until a soft moan slips from your lips.

She’s still intensely focused on the book, and so you gathered the courage and whispered her name, “Cate….”

“Cate...Cate…..” you say to yourself, words muffled with your now loud moans, which is not getting more and more intense as you get closer to the climax——

“Okay I think I’m done here,” she looks up to you, her sudden words scaring you, ruining your orgasm and now your pussy is pathetically wet, and exposed in the air.

She doesn’t seem to expect your response as she proceeds to give you a few suggestions about your writing. She praises your interesting perspectives, and points out a few flaws in your analysis, raising some other questions regarding the texts. As always, she seems to be most genuinely interested in your work, analyzing it as if it’s the work of Ovid himself. Her voice is incredibly captivating to you, and to your swollen desire, but her highly professional manner turns you on even more——the thought of you being naked with your ugly desire, almost dripping in such an academic discussion...how sinful, how humiliating, how dangerously attractive.

“Now would you mind sharing with me the passage you’ve chosen for the upcoming essay? The Shakespeare one.”

“Oh yes. Of course.” You nod, looking down to your notes to avoid looking at those eyes, and looking at your own picture on the screen. You could imagine yourself right now, cheeks red and sweat on your forehead, how weird she must have thought of you to be.

“I’ve chosen the passage in the Midsummer Night’s Dream. Helena’s confession and pursuit of Demetrius. I find that speech of her quite touching...the devotion of putting oneself in such a lowly place, almost an act of submission, but also an act of great courage, to go against societal norms…”

You pause yourself there to look up at her, she’s nodding and smiling as always, but in her eyes, you see almost a tint of a fleeting, mischievous smirk? you must have made a mistake. And you must have been illusioned by your heating desire, so you shake your thoughts and continued: “it’s this passage,

‘Use me but as your spaniel—spurn me, strike me,

Neglect me, lose me. Only give me leave,

Unworthy as I am, to follow you.

What worser place can I beg in your love—

And yet a place of high respect with me—

Than to be used as you use your dog?’”

Finishing off, you look up again, and you feel yourself shaking.

Silence. And you think you see that mischievous smile in her eyes grow stronger. You’re almost certain, yes there’s definitely something behind those eyes. Those eyes that shine with kindness and professionalism, sparkle with interests and curiosity...there must be something behind those eyes.

And now they’re staring at you.

“Professor?” You feel unease, breaking the long silence that felt like forever.

“Is that for your essay or is that for me?”

Your heart either stopped beating or was beating at an unnatural rate, you opened your mouth to find yourself stuttering, “I...this...the essay...sorry?”

She did not respond, but her eyes now burning with a wanton look.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Your voice is shaking.

“Oh yes you do.” She says, stopping the screen share of your essay so that you could see her and only her——eyes filled with mysterious lust, a smirk emerged on her face.

“You thought you muted yourself, didn’t you? Or did you think those filthy little noises that your pretty mouth was making could escape my ear? But I’ve heard them all, even those wet noises coming not from your mouth but from somewhere else. And did you think I didn’t notice you, looking like you’re having too much fun biting your lips with watery eyes in my lectures?”

Her stare was intense, burning you to the ground, to your knees, stripping you bare and making all your attempts to act decent seem useless and pathetic.

“You are quite a daring one, but a bashful one at the same time. How interesting.”

“‘To be used as you use your dog’...now look up and answer this: is that what you want from me?”

Lady Termaine x Adelaide Bonfamille

“Goodbye mothers! We won’t be long!” Anastasia yelled from the bottom of the stairs. The girls wanted to spend their Saturday evening shopping the many stores of Paris. “Just a moment girls” Adelaide hurried down the stairs as best she could, a smile on her face, “It wouldn’t be very wise to parade the around the streets with no money to spend, here” Adelaide handed Drizzella and Anastasia 167. 50 Euro each. Both girls had the biggest smiles on their faces “Thank you Mother Adelaide!” “It is quite fine! Now run along you don’t want to miss anything good.” Both girls rush out the door to the carriage that was waiting for them. Tremaine appeared next to Adelaide, her stoic expression never changing, “Don’t forget to show elegance and grace. Behave.” The girls jumped in the wagon, the new butler was already getting flirted with.

As the women wave the girls goodbye, Adelaide turns to Tremaine “My my, what shall we do with ourselves? The whole evening is open” “Perhaps some of your music will pass the time.” Tremaine says as she turns to leave up the stairs, Adelaide not too far behind.

In Adelaide’s comfy office, the kittens were playing with Lucifer, who’d rather be anywhere but there at the moment. Duchess and Thomas were on the window seal, watching the hustle and bustle outside. All the cats attention were caught by the clicking of the opening door. Adelaide and Tremaine walked in, now bombarded with cats. Adelaide picked up Duchess and Marie while Tremaine picked up Lucifer and the other two kittens. The music started without the need for the women to do anything, for Thomas had started the disc that was in the record player. “Oh Ho Ho! You rascal Tom” Adelaide said playfully as she swayed with Duchess and Marie. Tremaine hummed in amusement, “This is from your first concert, yes?” Tremaine’s smile slowly dropped to a frown, causing Adelaide to stop swaying “Dear? What’s the matter?” “This was from your first concert, wasn’t it?” Thomas stopped the music, seeing how the mood took a sudden swift. “Y-yes, it was. Darling? Are you alright?” Tremaine slowly say down on a nearby chair, trying to get her emotions under control. Adelaide came to comfort her, keeping one hand on her shoulder and the other was rubbing her back. “I had to miss this…” Tremaine finally said, causing Adelaide’s eyes to widen. “The night when you finally got to perform, was the same day I had to marry, him” Tremaine seemed to curse the man that she had married, even though he was already 6 feet under for quite some time. “It wasn’t your fault dear, your family had the arrangement done for a year before the news of my concert came to light.” “But I could’ve fought back more, I could’ve ran away, I could’ve-“ “Tremaine darling, I don’t either you or I would be here today if you did any of those.” That seemed to stop Tremaine’s line of speech, anything else she may have wanted to say was caught in her throat. She let a sigh of defeat, Adelaide continued to rub her back. “How about I fetch us some tea? I believe Jean has a kettle already prepared.” Adelaide offered sweetly. Tremaine gave her a small smile and nodded.

Even Evil Can Have a Heart.

[You can delete from here on if you want to reblog but I would be thankful if you help me to spread the word]

Allow me to introduce you the ship you didn’t know you need but now that it’s in your mind you won’t stop thinking about it :P

This started like just a moment of entertainment with a friend, talking about which Cate’s characters would have the best chemistry together. A few weeks ago though, it got more serious, starting to create headcanons and giving more details to this world, and now I’m at the point of having started a series of one-shots about them, that if you are interested (I mean, TWO Cates! How can you resist that?), can read here.

I’m barely starting but I’m already working in the next one and I have a lot of ideas for the ship :)

You’d been serving Lady Tremaine and her daughters since Cinderella had gone off and married her prince. You’d made a quick connection with Lady Tremaine, as you were quick and efficient in your tasks. As time went on, she even took a personal interest in you, though in the beginning even that was self serving. She remarked on your beauty one day, just to see how you’d react, though she did find you to be rather striking. When you turned to hide your face from her, she knew you must have found her attractive as well.

And it all developed from there. It started one night when she called you to her room and propositioned you. She began to call for you several nights a week after that first night. She liked having you in her bed, at her beck and call, doing whatever it was she asked of you. Though you never said it aloud, you quite enjoyed it too.

The one thing she insisted upon was keeping your relationship a secret from her daughters. Most of the time that was easy enough. Neither of them were particularly bright, and didn’t notice any signs of what transpired between you on the nights she summoned you to her bedroom.

However, as much as you enjoyed what you had with her, there was a part of you that wished it no longer had to remain behind closed doors. You almost didn’t dare suggest it, for fear of how she may react, and the fear of losing what you did have with her. But one day, when Anastasia and Drizella had gone for a stroll, you finally cracked. "Can’t I be yours out in the open," you asked, refusing to meet her eyes. "At least when it’s only us and the girls," you added, hoping that would soften her reply.

"Doesn’t our arrangement satisfy you anymore," she asked calmly.

"Of course it does," you began, hesitant to continue.

"But you want something more, is that it?" This time her question was rhetorical. "You know I’m holding back from fucking you over this kitchen counter. Don’t push your luck," she warned. You bit your lip. You opened your mouth to say something else, but you were interrupted by the opening of the door. "I suppose that will have to wait until next time," Lady Tremaine said, and she knew you’d be thinking about what could have been for the rest of the day.

For anon

Wow. Talk about attention to detail.

You must be fucking kidding me.

Anyways, if you’re not Palestinian/Arab and want to wear a keffiyeh in solidarity during a protest or something, then please do so by ordering an actual authentic keffiyehs made by Hirbawi, the last original Palestinian keffiyeh factory in Palestine. 

Their beautiful keffiyehs come in so many colors/pattern and all of them are under 19 Euros (I ordered one and I can tell you that they’re very high quality and soft)

Home site: http://hirbawi.ps 

Europe: http://MADEinPALESTINE.de 

US: http://hirbawiusa.com 

Worldwide: https://www.kufiya.org/

I’m glad someone said this, because till this day if you type “what do terrorist wear on their head” the first result will be the Palestinian keffiyeh (and not the LV version)

In court that day, the judge asked the boy, “Are you afraid?” No, the boy said.

Pipes says the judge seemed surprised, and asked, “Why not?”

Chief’s thesis was that a child who has been abused by an adult can benefit psychologically from the presence of even more intimidating adults that they know are on their side. “When we tell a child they don’t have to be afraid, they believe us,” Arizona biker Pipes told azcentral.com. “When we tell them we will be there for them, they believe us.” ( Article)

They go on runs to protect the child if they feel even the slightest threatened no matter where. If the child needs them to go on vacation with them, they do. Bikers come from across the nation to watch over and take shifts for these kids. And the best part is once you’re adopted into this family as a BACA kid, you’re always one. Even when you’re 40 and the perp gets released from jail, they’ll come meet with you and find your best options for avoiding the person and maintaining the life you’ve built for yourself. Once a BACA child, always a BACA child. In Florida, there’s 100% rate for identifying the perp based on the child’s testimony. Why? Because BACA stands with the child and supports the child so they feel comfortable enough to point out their attacker.

They’re in Canada as well and probably other countries. I met and talked with a native guy who runs the place near me. His name is Shaman. I got in, and I’m considered a BACA child now. Despite being 17, turning 18 when I talked to them. They spent time with me when my abuser was over, they gave me therapy resources. They give you something called a ‘level 1′ where they go to your house with as many bikers as they can, i shit you not a solid 20-40 bikers came from even out of province, and met me. I got to choose my biker name and I got a vest with patches on it and my name on it. They all hugged a Teddybear before giving it to me, and told me if I ever felt the BACA bear was running out of love, to give them a call and they’d refill it for me, and then I got a ride on one of their bikes. Just a day or so ago I went to an annual party with them and they we ate food one of them cooked and had a lot of laughs. 

I’ve never felt as loved as I did being a part of the BACA family. They also gave me dog tags with the names, and phone numbers of my 2 workers.  So I can call them whenever I feel scared. 

BACA is an absolutely wonderful group that will do everything in it’s power to help any child whos been abused. 

And it doesn’t end when you’re 18 either. As long as you get in contact/get your level 1 before you’re 18? you’re ALWAYS a BACA kid. I’m 18 now and they still invite me to parties, ask me if I’m okay, and are there for me. They’re still trying to find me resources for therapy. 

BACA has changed my fucking life.